


When Kingdom Come

by Perhaps7PercentStronger



Series: Castiel and Constance [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Family, Angel Relationship, Angel/Human - Freeform, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Marriage, Other, Talking to God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perhaps7PercentStronger/pseuds/Perhaps7PercentStronger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman named Constance gets a surprising calling that involves an angel named Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Father, Who Art In Heaven

Constance should have been used to the brash manner in which she was usually addressed, by her boss and people alike, but she turned her face away to reveal no hint of the emotion she felt, even if it was a pointless action. She knew he could always see her. Laying in bed, with her eyes closed, she wasn't very ready to fight off threats. Not his and not everyone else's. She was some sort of sociopath, never much for interacting with others. In fact, she'd moved here a month ago so that she did not have to be bothered with their questions of'What is he saying?' or 'Can you ask for something for me?' They could just as well ask for whatever they wanted themselves. It wasn't up to her. Prayer was a stream that her Father always heard and even if it was set aside for later or denied, no prayer went unanswered. People were simply impatient, and she was no exception. With a sigh, Constance gathered herself and answered him.

"You haven't talked to me in months, you know."

_"There has been no need. You know that, Constance."_

"I don't care! It would be nice to have some support every now and then!"

_"I have a task for you, Constance."_

She cocked her head. Now why would he want that? The voice at the back of her head hadn't been here in a long time, and now he was coming back to ask for a favor? Normally Constance wasn't so temperamental, but the last few months had been hard. "A task? Pray tell, then. Why would you need to give me a task when I'm not even worthy for a nice-to-talk-again chat?"

_"Constance Toivonen!"_

She jolted with the power of the voice and it broke her concentration as her eyes snapped open. For several minutes as Constance watched the second hand cirle thrice around the clock on the wall, the voice was silent, though she could still feel the source of its sound inside her. It was a space that was so often empty that it felt like a burden to now have it filled, even by the presence of her Father. Reluctantly but with apologetic intent, she closed her eyes and whispered,  "I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry. Forgive me."

 _"I always do,"_ answered the voice after a moment.  _"Now, my child, you task. You will accept it, I presume."_

It wasn't even a question. "Yes, Father."

_"There is a certain son of mine with whom I am rewarding you, Constance, for your steadfast faith and chastity as a good servant."_

"A son?" she asked, half-sarcastically. Great. One of his sons. He had so many children.

The voice continued on as if what she'd commented had not been disrespectful.  _"He is dear to me, Constance, and I want you to take him in. He has strayed from me and his grace dwindles, as his faith in me is nearly gone."_

She frowned. Grace? Grace was for... Angels. Of course. He wanted her to take care of one of his precious little angels. She would have rolled her eyes but they were closed. Instead, she simply recalled that there was never any true reward on Earth and her Father always had some ulterior motive for anything he gave, letting them feast freely on the faith that something much better was to be reaped as a reward in Heaven. And Constance was a good servant; her life had demanded it of her and she continued to walk as humbly as she could at her Father's side and expect to find her peace and rest later. Sure, maybe in this life she would find someone that would marry her and accept that either she was mad or she really did speak to God, but that was a normal life and far from what she'd had for a long time. Anyway, what reward could an angel give to her? She had never met one, to be sure, but had heard from various sources that they weren't exactly the peaceful beings most people made them out to be. Yes, surely this was some sort of divine scheme that would benefit this angel more than it did her, but she would play along. She always had.

"So I'm fixing an Angel? How can I fix an angel? I know you're no more in Heaven, Father... Does he even know where you are? Have you told him? Have you forsaken him?"

 _"It's far more than fixing him, my daughter. It is, as I said, a reward."_  

Cryptic as always. Letting out an audible sigh, Constance could not take his sweet-talk and returned a venerable, "Reward? Reward? I get no rewards. I'd be naive to think you'd reward me, much less with one of your more beloved. Especially one you won't speak to yourself!"

 _"Constance! Don't you dare disrespect what I command!"_  

This time she simply remained quiet. She knew he wanted something from her. She knew it. But she would always do what he asked, temper or no.

"Alright. Tell me what to do. I shall not disrespect you again, Father."

_"Pray to him, petition him to meet you. His name is Castiel. Tell him you need his help."_

"Isn't that... lying?"

_"No, my child. Not when you do need his help."_

She contemplated this. Just as she was about to ask another question, the presence vanished from the back of her skull and she was left hollow again. Alright, well, that was all she got. Raising herself from the bed, she wondered what this angel would have to help her with. She caught a glimpse of herself as she passed the mirror and paused with a sigh. Her short brown hair was tousled in an unbecomingly untidy manner and the state of her pale face proved that she had slept in and not yet gotten ready. Staring into her own hazel eyes, Constance realized that she must look like an awfully strange choice for a messenger of God. She was no prophet; dreams did not come to her at night and demand her interpretation. She did not know the future. All she knew was what her Father told her, and that wasn't usually much. But she could talk to and hear him directly, and that was at least something. Looking down with distaste at her nightgown, Constance wondered if she should clean up before calling this angel.

But after dragging a weary hand through her hair, she decided it probably didn't matter. She should just do as she was told. With a sigh, she lowered herself down to the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.

"I, Constance Toivonen, pray to Heaven as instructed by my Father and of my own accord that Castiel come to my side for I am in need of his help. In the name of the Father, Amen."

She was about to lay down and wait when there was suddenly an unfamiliar voice in the doorway behind her.

"Are you Constance?" asked a rough, low voice and her head spun round to see a man dressed in oversized clothes, his eyes a piercing blue. He looked like no angel, until she saw the shadows of his wings on the wall fading.

"Yes," she replied, blinking.

"Well. You called for me."

"You're Castiel?"

"I am."

His voice did not change. It was all rather monotonous and she thought that his stance and manner were much those of a stoic. For a couple of minutes just long enough to make an awkward moment impossibly more awkward, she just stared at him and finally, regaining her personage, stood to face him. She did not move any closer, though, intrigued as she may have been. She had never met an angel but she had heard that they weren't the peaceloving cherubs everyone portrayed them to be.

"I've been instructed to call upon you," she said, somewhat shyly. Angel or not, rigid in face or not, he was handsome. It was somewhat of a wonder to see how little emotion he portrayed.

"Here I am," he answered dryly, and she frowned.

"You don't know why?"

"I was hoping you would tell me that."

She looked away for a moment. He didn't know? What was she supposed to tell him? She closed her eyes for just a second, hoping to summon her Father with a soft, "Hello?" but the space remained unoccupied. When she turned back to Castiel, he was still staring at her.

"Well... my Father told me to take you in."

"Your...Father?"

"Yes."

"Father by blood, or do you mean... God?" he turned his head slightly in inquisition, almost a threatening gesture.

"God," she answered.

He lowered his brows.

Constance sighed in frustration. He was not an easy creature to deal with, Castiel. Why was this supposed to be a reward? It felt a lot more like a punishment and Constance almost wished she hadn't listened. Then again, she never denied her Father. 


	2. Hallowed Be Your Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel questions Constance's odd power.

Constance and Castiel stood in silence, each looking in inquiry at the other. While she didn't doubt he was an angel, he seemed to have his own reservations about her. He paced a bit into the room and then around it. The whole time Constance didn't move from where she stood, and began to grow slightly self-concious of her attire and state of appearance.

"So God told you this?" asked Castiel suddenly with an air of blatant suspicion. Constance nodded with a bout of hesitation.

"He did."

Castiel turned away so that Constance could not make out the expression on his features. No longer facing her, he said, "I don't know how you knew to summon me or why I was inclined to oblige you, but what you're saying is impossible."

Constance frowned.

"No... Castiel, it's true. You're an angel. He's your Father!"

"He is," answered the angel, turning back to face her, "but Constance,  _I_  don't even speak to him."

"Are you... are you calling me a liar?"

Castiel narrowed and locked his penetratingly blue--actually a heavenly, ethereal color--eyes with her. "No human should ever speak directly to God and get an answer straight from his lips. Only the archangels have that power, and they're not exactly nice."

"Well, I..." but Constance was having trouble forming words. Finally she got out the only thing she could, her temper starting to get the better of her. "I thought that angels were supposed to be kind. God's messengers."

Castiel shook his head.

"That is where you're wrong." Constance actually did know better but she had to play her cards carefully with this angel, it seemed. He continued, "And judging by what you claim, you're the messenger and not I."

Constance rolled her eyes and dropped her shoulders. "Castiel, this is not the argument I want to have with you. I speak to God, Castiel. I speak to him and he answers me. There's a place in my head that he occupies when he wishes to impart a message." She was sick of Castiel not believing a thing she said. He moved toward her, and though she flinched and thought about moving, she remained where she was. He placed two gentle fingers to her temple and something electric ran through her system.

He sighed, pulling his hand away.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly.

He could tell with just that? That she was telling the truth? No matter. 

"Now that you believe me, Castiel..."

He looked away.

She sat down on the bed again. 

"I don't want to quarrel with you, Castiel. I was told to do this."

"To take me in?" he asked, clearly confused.

"That's what my orders are."

"But..." he looked utterly lost, in some other place that was not here. His eyes displayed a brilliant distance. "But I don't need a home, Constance Toivonen. I have one."

She furrowed her brow. Well, yes, that certainly complicated things. "You mean, you already live with someone?" She was still trying to understand his situation herself.

"Sort of, yes."

"Well, Castiel, here's the truth." She looked him in the eye. "Your-Our Father has... um... given you to me as a reward of some sort. He wants me to heal your faith and your Grace."  


"Ah," said Castiel, knowingly. "Didn't know he cared that much."

There was still no expression sitting upon his face but his eyes glimmered to let Constance get some glimpse of his thoughts. Little, she assumed, but still some. Constance didn't know what to say to him but looked at the floor. Why did she have to be yoked with this task? She was a human and he was an angel. This was a preposterous assignment. Why couldn't she just have normal communications with her Father?

"Well, then, Castiel. How do we go about restoring your faith?"

He almost glowered at this question, and answered, "I believe that was supposed to be my Father's job."

Constance shook her head. 

"Are your powers--your Grace--really dwindling?"

"Yes," he admitted.

Trying to think of what to say, Constance changed the subject to give herself time to think. "So, if I'm not taking you in, who do you live with now?"

"Two brothers. Sam and Dean. I don't live with them but I help them."

"Oh? With what?"

"Hunting."

Constance was thrown off. "Hunting?"

"For demons and other forces of Hell, yes."

Ah. That made a bit more sense. So those things really existed? She supposed it wasn't much of a stretch, considering that there was an angel currently standing in her bedroom. "Well," she said simply, her face softening with concern, "I would not dare try and tell you not to help them, Castiel. But do come by sometime, okay? This is my charge, after all, and while I'm not entirely sure what my Father wants me to do, I will try to do my task."

He nodded.

"If he listens to you, it may be worth asking again. He certainly won't listen to me."

Feeling a pang of sympathy, Constance stood again and went to where he was, wrapping two gentle arms around him and saying only, "We'll figure this out, Castiel."

He did not thank her but he did cautiously return the embrace for a couple of seconds.

She pulled out and looked him in the eye.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"And I expect to see you again."

"Call me and I will come."

And suddenly the space he had filled was empty and Constance was alone once more.


	3. This Will Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has received a call to help Dean and Sam Winchester, leaving Constance to figure out what she is supposed to do.

The angel Castiel had disappeared just as quickly as he had come, and it left Constance to wonder. She had been so unprepared to speak with him and had not known the least of what to do. It wasn't her fault if he was angry at his Father or if he didn't want his Grace back. Those problems should be his own. She sunk slowly back onto the bed to contemplate the situation. How was she supposed to help him? Not that she even had time--there was work to be done today because a buyer was coming by the apartment later to see his piece and it wasn't even finished. Another hour and she should have the painting in its ultimate state, but she would have to hurry.

Looking out the window, she saw that it wasn't even a nice day. Then again, she would rather work under dreary conditions.

Constance forced herself up and into the bathroom, where she dragged a comb through her hair and powdered her face. After changing into a simple sundress that already had three months' worth of paint stain on it, she decided she was presentable enough and made her way into the parlor where a tall painting was sitting expectantly upon an easel.

With a sigh, she picked up her palatte and began to mix colors.

* * *

Castiel had been called by Sam and then by Dean, and he knew he had to leave Constance Toivonen to help them. His loyalties were currently out of line and he would much rather service the Winchesters than worry about his Grace.

 "Dean? Sam?" he asked as he appeared behind them in a musty hotel suite in Edgewood, Maryland.

Dean turned around and let out a deep breath.

"Cas. Finally! We've been trailing a god--a trickster god actually. I need your help, Cas."

"Which one?"

"Raven," answered Sam coolly from behind his computer. He turned it so that Castiel could read what was on the screen. "It's the trickster of Native American lore. He steals light and took the sun from the people."

"That's all nonsense," said Castiel.

"Raven--Hemaskas, he's called--has been screwing with everyone around here."

"Fucking with electricity would be one thing," Dean added, "but not with the weather."

Castiel kept his gaze on Sam.

"And?"

Sam sighed. "And we don't know what to do. For a week, it was literally as hot as Hell here, and now the sun never comes up. Neither the stars or moon. Constant cloud cover, maybe. I'm not sure."

"What end is he trying to get at?" asked Castiel.

"We don't know that, either, but there have been an abnormal number of deaths."

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his bearings. "Well, how can I help?"

"How can one control the weather?" asked Sam. 

"I'm not sure," answered Castiel honestly.

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance and Castiel added, "Well, he's a trickster god. He can change form. Have you seen him?"

"Not exactly," responded Sam.

"Have you seen a raven?" 

"Are you insane?" cried Dean. "We're in freaking Maryland, Cas! Do you  _know_ how many ravens there are here? Hell, they have their own football team!"

"Calm down," ordered Castiel.

"Look, Cas..."

"Dean, do you want my help or not?"

Surprisingly, Dean shut up.

"Finding demons should be your specialty, Dean. But I will look."

" _Thank_ you, Cas." 

And the angel was gone.

* * *

"It's perfect, Miss Toivonen!" said Mr. Greyson, giving her a gentle smile. "My wife will love it. Thank you so very much."

"I'm always glad to serve you, sir."

He handed her a check. The painting should have been three hundred, but a quick glance at the numbers told her that it was at least twice that. She gave him a wide smile and released the work to his care. "Anytime you need another, I am glad to create it."

Mr. Greyson nodded and made his way out. Once he was gone, Constance let out a deep breath.

She needed to focus on her other assignment now, the one that involved a wayward angel. 

Hopefully God would still listen to her. All he'd said so far had been cryptic, and Constance wasn't much for puzzles. She made her way back to the bedroom, throwing aside her painter's apron before sitting down on the edge of the bed. She laid back and closed her eyes, making sure her mind was open to accepting the presence. Finally, she spoke.

"Hello? Father? I need your help. Really need your help. Please spare time for me, Father."

For three minutes she was still, and finally that familiar tingling began at the back of her head. Thank Heavens! He wasn't abandoning her this time!

 _"My daughter?"_  

"Father, I do not understand my charge. Castiel has friends. A... family, almost--at least it sounds that way. Why should it be I who helps him?"

She thought she nearly heard a chuckle.  _"It's far more than help, Constance. I've chosen you for something greater than you can yet know. Be patient with him. Allow him to know you, for your acquaintance will last a long time."_  

Not surprisingly, he was still being mysterious.

"Yes, Father, I understand. But what do I say to him? He could not believe me without reading my thoughts!"

 _"Tell him that you seek to befriend him. Tell him Dean and Sam are at no risk, that he will still be available for them. Fare thee well, my child._ "

And, of course, he left again, before any more questions could be hurled his way. Constance half-growled in frustration, opening her eyes and rolling over onto her stomach. She did not want to be an annoyance to Castiel, but she also didn't understand what purpose she could be to an angel. Grace or no Grace, he was still far above her piety. This better be a damn good plan.

Should she call him back? 

No. Constance decided to wait and call him when she c--"Constance?"

She nearly fell off the bed as she jumped to see him standing there.

"Castiel," she managed after she caught her breath.

"Pardon me. I don't mean to intrude. I was called away and returned to finish our conversation."

"I, um... Well, okay. What do you want to know?"

"Have you spoken any more with our Father?"

She nodded.

"And?"

"And it seems like we've got some pretty big plans coming our way. I don't know what yet. But I would like to be your friend, Castiel, and I do not mean for that to take away from your relationship with--" What were their names? Oh-- "Dean and Sam."

"You know them?"

"I know of them, yes, but I do not know them personally."

Castiel looked suspicious.

"Well?" she asked.

For a few minutes he seemed stuck in some other dimension inside his own head, oblivious to her apartment, but Constance held her gaze on him the while. Finally, those bright blue eyes gazed back.

"Call me Cas."


	4. On Earth Like Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, obligated to be in two places at once, decides to take Constance back to where the Winchesters wait.

“Cas?”

“I’m used to it,” he offered as a sort of explanation.

Constance nodded. She tried the new name on her tongue again. “Cas.”

He looked a bit confused.

“Yes?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just… remembering.” This time she offered him a genuine smile. 

He acknowledged her comment and said, “So what are we supposed to be doing?”

She thought a moment.

“Well… Show me your life, then, Cas. Your friends… Sam and Dean?”

“Yes. The Winchesters,” he mused. “Alright. I’m supposed to be helping them right now so we should get back to Baltimore. I found what they were looking for but I wanted to… make sure you were not angry with me.”

“We? So I get to go?”

He nodded and walked toward her. Constance didn’t flinch as once more he pressed two cold but gentle fingers to her temple, and suddenly she wasn’t in her apartment any more. Instead, she was standing beside Castiel in an old and degrading hotel room, staring blankly at two men she didn’t know.

“Um… Sam and Dean?” she asked shyly.

The taller one, whose long hair draped past his chin, turned to her and answered with curious but kind eyes, “I’m Sam, yeah. And that’s Dean.” He gestured to the one that was laid out on the bed with a bottle of beer. Dean nodded and raised a hand in welcome. But Sam continued, asking, “Who exactly are you? I mean… You’re with Cas so I’m not worried, I just…”

Castiel introduced her before she could do it herself. 

“This is Constance Toivonen. She’s a… friend of mine.”

“Angel?”

Constance shook her head.

“No. Completely human. I hear you two… hunt demons?”

Dean cast an inquisitive glare at Castiel, that seemed to ask for his motive with no words whatsoever. The angel answered lowly, “We haven’t been acquainted for very long.”

With that, Dean stood up to greet her.

"Hello, then, _Constance_." He shook her hand but was standing a little too close, staring noticeably at a point below her face. She turned back to Castiel for help.

"Dean."

The hunter looked up at the angel.

"Personal space, right. Not like you have that problem or anything, Cas."

Constance was looking back and forth between the two when Sam appeared beside his brother and also offered her a handshake. "Are you going to help us on this case?" he asked. 

"I... Well, I can try. I don't know much about what you do. In fact, I've not the first idea."

"Trickster god," answered Castiel. "He was in human form when I saw him. Down near the harbor doing something to the water."

"So you found him. Good. What are we waiting for, then?" asked Dean, who grabbed a set of keys, threw on a jacket, and left the room. The other three followed, including Castiel, out to a black Chevy Impala. Constance didn't know much about cars, but she knew it was no new vehicle. Castiel nodded to Constance to get in the backseat and then took his place beside her. When Dean started the car, a familiar song began to play after the engine roared to life. 

_Winter is here again oh Lord,_  
 _Haven't been home in a year or more_  
 _I hope she holds on a little longer_  
 _Sent a letter on a long summer day..._

Journey. Seemed Dean liked the older stuff. Constance was caught up in the song and didn't hear whatever it was Sam said, prompting the younger Winchester to ask, "Constance? Listening?"

"No, sorry. What was it?"

"You need to do what we say if you don't want to become a part of this trickster's scheme."

"Of course," she replied obediently.

"Also... Why haven't you questioned us? Usually people don't believe us when we say demons and ghosts and trickster gods are real."

"If you haven't noticed, there's a live angel sitting right beside me," she answered matter-of-factly.

"Fair enough." His words shifted to ask of Castiel, "Where in the harbor was he?"

"Near the fish museum."

"You mean the aquarium?" asked Dean with a short laugh.

"Yes. The... aquarium."

Dean drove as fast as he was able, but when they reached the spot Castiel had seen him in earlier, Constance saw a raven in its place.

"That's him. Shit," said Dean, banging a hand on the wheel as the bird looked to them and flew away.

Sam watched. "Follow--west. He's going west."

"I'll be back," said Castiel, and he disappeared.

Constance sighed. Now it was just her and the Winchesters, who she didn't know very well. Had her angel gone to find the thing? The raven? And why was it a raven that they were after? She thought she'd heard this trickster-god called a man, but now she wasn't sure. Within a couple of minutes, Castiel appeared beside her and she gasped, almost screaming because she wasn't expecting it.

"Poe House," said Castiel.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Sam, as Dean simultaneously said, "What the Hell, Cas?"

"No, I'm serious. Park the car."

Dean did as he was told and Castiel suddenly sent everyone in the vehicle, including himself, to a small and cramped attic in a house that seemed to be in one of the worst parts of town. Dean looked out the window with distrust, but Constance looked to the desk in the corner.

There sat a raven, who let out something akin to a laugh, and the croak of, "Nevermore."

"You're fucking kidding me," said Dean.

Sam pulled out something that made Constance wonder; it was a wooden stake of sorts. It was sharp on one end and she had a feeling whatever it was would be capable of killing this bird-god-thing.

"Come on, you son of a bitch. Stop cowering like an animal and face us."

Suddenly, the bird shifted forms, turning back into a man.

"Cowering," he laughed darkly. "I would never. Why do you want to kill me? I've done nothing to merit death." He stepped toward the Winchester brothers, Castiel looking cautiously on, and let out another laugh.

"You call killing people by changing the weather innocent? I'd hate to see what you call guilty," snubbed Dean.

"Put the stick away," said the man to Sam, ignoring Dean, his dark black eyes narrowing. "We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

But Sam raised the wooden stake instead and suddenly, with a snap of the trickster's fingers, Constance and Castiel were back in her flat with the Winchesters looking on with confusion. Somehow all four had been displaced from where they were in Baltimore, and Constance looked around at the men for some sort of explanation, which she did not get.

"What the hell?" asked Dean.

"Trickster for sure," answered Sam. "Where are we?"


	5. Not Into Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Winchesters sent back to kill the Baltimore trickster, Constance receives a startling message from God that she must relay to Castiel.

"This is my flat," said Constance blankly. "How did we...?"

"Tricksters do that," said Sam, running a hand through his hair in frustration as Dean said concurrently, "This is utter bullshit. We almost had him." 

"I need to send you two back," Castiel cut in, looking at the brothers pointedly.

"What're  _you_ gonna do, then?" asked the elder, irritated.

"You two can handle this one on your own, Dean," said the angel lowly, "and I still have very some questions for Constance. I'll send you back to where Raven is now, as far as I can figure."

"And where is that, exactly?"

"Fort McHenry, I believe. Control of the waters there would benefit him. Now go," demanded Castiel, sending both brothers back with a touch of his hand. Constance wondered if she wouldn't see them right back here again in a few minutes; it seemed that the trickster god had similar powers to Castiel. She shook her head and stared at him, taking a moment to assess her situation before speaking.

"You have more questions, Cas?" she asked, stepping up a little closer to him. Her eyes betrayed her concern.

"Well... not that you could answer. I just needed Sam and Dean out of my way. Can you summon God?"

She frowned. "Not exactly," she answered. "I can only speak to him. That's all I do."

He nodded, a pensive look crossing his stoic features. "Try and talk to him."

"It's hard to do when someone else is around."

"Angel," he reminded her. 

Constance shook her head in retribution but decided she may as well try since he was asking her. She moved to the chair that was placed along the wall and sat down, leaning back. After a long breath of preparation, Constance closed her eyes and channeled her thoughts to that compartment at the back of her head, thinking meditatively on the words she continued to whisper aloud. "Father, who art in Heaven." Finally, a familiar warm voice echoed in her head, sounding mildly annoyed. 

_"Daughter?"_

"Father, I must inquire of you some information."

_"For my son Castiel?"_

"And for myself." She reached out a hand to offer to Castiel so that he might approach her, which he did. When he took her hand, she squeezed it and nodded to give him a sign that she was ready for his questions. 

"What has Constance to do with me?"

She nodded and asked, "What have I to do with Castiel's life?"

_"That is for you both to figure out. I will help you along the way but I expect you to continue to look for signs. Your ultimate purpose is great; but no purpose may be achieved unless you find it within yourself to love him."_

She frowned again and let go of Castiel's hand. "What do you mean? I--I shouldn't ask but I need instructions. I cannot see omens."

He answered after a moment.  _"You must marry him, Constance. Your virtue has proven flawless and he must be drawn into commitment so that he might remember who he is and be returned to my service and be loyal to Heaven. Else I fear he will have to be stopped by his own siblings. I shall bind you upon your marriage: your soul to his Grace, and you will be seared together as one. But you must marry. You must say your vows. Tell him only this: You two must marry. No more than that."_

"Yes, Father," she murmured halfheartedly, still taken aback by her instructions, and heard Castiel at her back. "I need you to ask--" Constance shakes her head to cut him off. He fell silent.

_"You may call upon me again only if you must. I will send you signs, and you must trust me. I am entrusting you with something great."_

Constance nodded and wasn't even able to say goodbye before that space in her mind was once again hollow. She blinked for a second and then opened her eyes to see Castiel once more in front of her. "Alright, angel," she said softly, reaching to take both of his hands. "I have my orders, and you have yours. No more questions, but I will tell you what I have been instructed to tell."

He nodded at her, looking a little bit confused. "Tell me," he asked, his voice strong but quiet.

"We have to get married, Castiel."

He frowned immediately. "Married?" His tone was, as usual, straight and cold, but his eyes held a hint of surprise. She merely nodded in response; it was too surreal to do anything else. "This is... unexpected," he said.

"I know. And I'm sorry. If you would prefer you can have all the time you need. I don't expect to rush into something like this."

He pondered this idea for a long time, and Constance could only occupy herself by analyzing him, memorizing his features. He was quite handsome, she began to notice. Eyes of the purest sapphire and lips of soft pink, set within a face of peach fuzz and under a mane of smooth-looking black hair. He certainly knew how to pick a vessel. She shook her head before she could catch it, and he seemed to see. "Constance?" he asked. She apologised, looking down once more, away from those startlingly blue eyes. But he spoke again and it forced her to meet them. "Let me take you to dinner," he surmised after all his thinking.

She nodded slowly. "Um... Okay," she responded, smiling only gently.

"I do not mind marriage," he explained with a cool tone. "I simply was not expecting this. Did he give you reason?"

She had to shake her head to keep that to herself. "Not directly."

Castiel nodded, leaning on a table. He still looked incredibly worried. "Well, then," he mused. "I suppose then that we will just have to learn to... live as a married couple. Come on," he invited her, holding out his hand. 

"Perhaps I could even love you," she whispered back, taking his hand. With a smile to him, she closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, he had put his hand against her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have much enjoyed writing this, and I hope you, dear readers, have enjoyed it as well. This is only the first work of a series; more are coming and the plot will get even better. Thanks so much!
> 
> xoxoxo  
> P7PS


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